Brother's Keeper
by EdgyAuthor
Summary: Kyle has never understood his older brother Sam. He understands him even less when he interrupts his study date.


I'm not home much anymore. You'd think I would be, now that my holier-than-thou brother has moved out, but I just can't make the effort. Things have gotten weird between my parents for the past year, so it's just easier to avoid them; it's good practice for when I finally get to escape to college, at least. The times I _am _there, I overhear them arguing about Sam a lot, and something about the Devil -- maybe Sam isn't so holy after all and has joined a group of Satanists.

Oh, who am I kidding? Even if I did believe that, my parents wouldn't care; in fact, they'd probably invite the cultists over for dinner and give them some of Mom's homemade chocolate chip cookies afterward. Sam gets away with a lot of things like that -- everything, actually, if what I've witnessed for the past eighteen years is any indication. I still don't understand why they're so easy on him, why they baby him so much. Sure, he's their firstborn, so they're bound to have a different bond with him, but at least my aspirations don't include wearing some stupid blue apron for the rest of my life. Can you blame me for wanting to see them get a little tough on him?

I swear, if our lives got turned into a TV show, I'd probably get bumped off after the first couple episodes while Sam becomes the star, because he's just so _special_.

Not that I'm jealous or anything.

No, seriously. Sam is still pining away for that brunette coworker of his (Toni? Bobbi?), but I'm here at the library with the hot new blond at school, who asked _me_ out -- and, okay, it's just to study, but I'm still getting a lot farther than Sam has with his dream girl. I may not believe in karma, but it's definitely worth being on the wrong side of the Oliver family favoritism pole when it means I get to be on Amy's good side instead.

Now if only my parents would disown me so I could get on Amy's really, really good side.

"I'll be right back."

I glance away from my textbook to watch Amy stand, resisting a frown. "To go where? It's the _library_."

"The restroom." She snatches up her purse, adding with a teasing grin, "It's girl stuff."

Not only do I finally give in to my frown, but clutch my head, tipping backwards in my chair. "Not _girl stuff_! That phrase kills all guys in hearing distance! My brain…I feel it dying…ahh!"

And then I scream for real as all the chair-tipping causes to me to fall out of my chair.

Amy laughs, helping me stand. "You are such a loser."

"Yeah, well…" I look away so she doesn't see me blush, only to catch the stern gaze of a nearby librarian instead. Why do I always have to act like such an idiot around girls? This must be exactly how Sam feels when it comes to…well, life.

Amy turns my attention back to her by turning my cheek. "I like losers."

Before I can respond, Amy twirls away, an impish smile trailing after her. At least my mouth wasn't hanging open during my unresponsiveness.

Straightening the chair so I can sit back down instead of trip over it -- something I'm very prone to do during my rare moments of idiocy -- I do my best to resume studying, but the text is much too dry to fully concentrate. My thoughts keep retreating to ones of Amy. Surely it won't take her too long to get back, even if she does have girl stuff to do….

Ergh. Amy doing girl stuff. My textbook is suddenly much more fascinating now.

Well, for about three minutes.

I look away once more from my textbook, hoping to see Amy finally approach. I end up seeing another familiar face instead.

"You've got be kidding me." Groaning, I smack my head down against my textbook. It does nothing to change the fact that Sam has broken every law of nature by actually stepping inside a library -- it _has _given me a small headache, though. And…is that a ventriloquist dummy on his arm? I crane my head for a better look, dreadfully realizing that I'm right. Sam becomes just as rigid as his doll when he finally spots me. I sink lower in my seat, using my textbook to hide my face instead of hit it. Whatever Sam has planned, it better be far from here -- far from _me _-- this little library venture of his only lasting long enough to get directions to the real place he needs to be.

Sam approaches my table.

Damn it.

"Would you look at that," I say, dropping my textbook so I can better glare at him. "It's a dummy."

"What?" Sam frowns down at the doll on his arm. "Oh, you mean Ted."

"That's not the dummy I was talking about." I blink. "Wait, you named it _Ted_?"

"Well, Sock did." Flustering, Sam adds, "It's his. I'm just watching it. Yeah."

"Whatever you say."

Sam's frown deepens. "What are you doing here?"

"_Me_?" I scoff. "That's a laugh, coming from you. Have you ever _seen_ a library before? Or a book, for that matter?"

Frowny-frown-frown. At least he's not smiling maniacally like that doll of his.

Finally, with rolling eyes, I say, "I'm _studying_. You know, that thing that smart people do. Hey, here's an idea! Why don't you leave so my IQ can stop plummeting?"

"I can't," Sam says distractedly, his eyes flicking about the library, as if searching for somebody. "_You_ should, though."

"Uh-huh." I ignore him for my textbook so I can at least attempt to salvage my brain cells.

Sam slams his hand over the text. "I'm serious, Kyle! There's…something here. It'd be better if you just go. Okay?"

"No, not okay." I shove his hand away, wondering exactly what else has been killing his brain besides a lack of studying. Sam's acting weird even for him.

Amy strides toward us.

"Great," I grumble. _Of course _she'd return while Sam's still here; my luck is already sucky enough to have him be here in the first place, after all. I glare at Sam, hoping he'll get the hint, but instead of leaving, he stares at the one person I wish he would avoid. Amy freezes, her gaze locked indecisively between Sam and his doll, then runs away.

Wow. Sam's able to scare people off at a distance now. Impressive. I'd congratulate him if it didn't make me want to kill him.

Sam dashes after her before I can decide whether my textbook is suitable enough for a weapon.

"Sam!" I yell, much to the chagrin of all librarians everywhere, chasing after him before any can sic their wrath on me. What the hell does he think he's doing?

Someone snatches my arm on my way past the book aisles.

"Amy?" My brain pinches at that fact that she's standing here, smiling up at me. I could've sworn I'd just seen her and Sam run out the library….

"Uh-huh. What's wrong? More girls try to attack you with that ever-fatal phrase?"

She nudges me playfully, but my confusion does not waver. "I just saw you and Sam --"

"Who's Sam?" She fingers my shirt collar, that and her grin coaxing me deeper down the book aisle.

"My brother. You ran off when you saw him at our table."

"No I didn't. I've been here."

"But…"

Cocking her head, Amy says pointblank, "Why would I run off because of your brother? Besides, it's not like I can be in two places at once."

She has a point. At least, when it comes to the not-being-in-two-places-at-once thing.

Still…

"I could've sworn I saw you."

"It must have been someone else, then." Shrugging, Amy weaves her fingers through my hair and inches closer. I do as well, but just as I tilt my head down, hers turns sharply upward, whispering, "This is going to be so much more satisfying now that I know you're related to the reaper."

"Reaper? Wh--"

Her nails dig down deep into my skull.

I scream. At least, I _try_ to, but her free hand muffles me. Pain blots my vision and mind with darkness.

What. The. Hell?!

Amy rips free from me, although not freely. I could care less why or because of whom. I'm too busy crashing to my knees, the pain surging through me a thousandfold. Yet it feels less achy now, more…lucid. Flinching, I touch the back of my head. Blood.

"Son of a -- mmrf!" Sam chokes on his words as Amy muffles him and jabs her nails into his head as well. No, not nails -- talons.

Seriously, what the hell?!

I lurch up, nearly staggering back down again at how spinny it makes my head, then chuck the first thing I can find at her head: Sam's fallen dummy.

Except, it hits Sam's head, not hers.

Oh, well. The impact has made Sam pitch backwards, smacking Amy hard enough into the bookshelf to release her hold on him. Sam can live with a bruise or two.

"You did that on purpose!" Sam accuses.

"Right," I say, "because Amy skewering you with her nails isn't enough pain for -- watch out!"

Sam ducks down as Amy sweeps for him. He then snatches up his dummy, aiming it at her with the mouth silently yapping.

Great. Amy turns out to be some psycho, and Sam's answer to it all? Parlor tricks! Of all the --

Amy shoves me aside as she shoots down the aisle.

"Ow!" I bellow. If this fall hasn't caused my head to split open yet, nothing will. I feel the back of it, but no brains spill out, just blood, and not even as strongly as before. Yay?

Something ripples in the air, a humid whoosh that snaps me back into attention, despite how jarring it is for my head. But all I see is Sam and that stupid dummy of his. He's staring down at it with an odd animosity.

"Sam?"

He turns away from the doll, but not to me. The same librarian who gave me the Evil Eyes before is now peering down the aisle. "Shh!" she warns, becoming even more evil-eyed, then walks away.

Finally, Sam says to me, "You okay?"

"Uh…" I stand, unsure of how to answer. "I guess."

Unconvinced, Sam steps toward me and starts inspecting my head. I swat him away, but the action makes me trip back against the bookshelf. Stupid lightheadedness.

"I think you might need stitches."

I feel the scabbing wounds that no doubt match the ones on the back of Sam's head. "If I do, then you do."

Sam grumbles, fingering his own wounds. "Well, they don't seem _that _bad…. You won't tell Mom and Dad, will you?"

"And you care, why?" Sam's starting to get that twitchy look of his when he's done something wrong, which, surprisingly, isn't true for a change, not that our parents would care, anyhow.

Sam just shrugs.

"Whatever." I glance down at my watch and groan. More time has passed than I thought. "Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah?" He waits cautiously, as if afraid of what I might ask. Kind of a fun look to see on him, actually….

"Can I have a ride home? Amy drove me here, and now that she's MIA _and_ psychotic…"

"Sure," Sam cuts off. "I'll just need to drop by the DMV first."

"The _DMV_? Seriously?"

"Uh-huh," Sam says, striding out of the aisle without another word.

I'm never going to understand my brother at this rate.


End file.
